


Personal Notes (26) CLICK

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [26]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos to the rescue!, Fluff, M/M, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil gets trapped by an out of control computer. Who ya gonna call?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Notes (26) CLICK

Yesterday I got to be a hero, in a minor and mostly unacknowledged way. One person was _very_ grateful, if slightly embarrassed. Just one person who matters.

I was rota-ed for late shift yesterday which meant I could lie in with Cecil for an extra hour or two or, if I'm accurate, three, and rise ready to get him fully caffeined-up and conscious in plenty of time to prepare for his live outside broadcast from the local elementary school. He is not a morning person, especially if we have both stayed up watching monster movies (I had to reassure him frequently that _Cloverfield_ is not a documentary), making out and drinking too much armagnac the evening before. He wasn't exactly hungover, but neither was he alert, awake nor enthusiastic. I took him coffee, careful to check he wasn't about to burst through the door again, left him to wake up a bit more then threatened to carry him into the shower. That didn't work, he grinned without bothering to open his eyes and told me to go ahead. I did.

On second thoughts, maybe that threat did work, just not in the way I expected. Somehow we still managed to get out in time. I drove Cecil to the station to pick up his mobile broadcast equipment, then to the elementary school where he would be reporting live from some meeting or other, then I drove home to the lab. Estrella was already there, peering down a microscope and making notes, Gio was about to go off duty as I arrived to take over and the other postgrads had not yet returned from lunch. I settled down to carry out a thorough analysis of a crystalline material that Aleck had obtained from one of the elementary school teachers, someone he always refers to in full as "Miss Escobar, the literacy teacher who likes geology" and blushes every time he mentions her. Which is quite often. I have also met Susan, she came to visit the lab once because her second grade class asked about "the funny noises coming from next to Big Rico's." It is possible that I am working with a scientist even more socially awkward than I am. At least the rest of the team has moved on to target Aleck about Susan rather than torturing me about Cecil. 

Mostly. Estrella has pointed out that my red check flannel shirts seem to be meeting accidents involving Cecil, and being replaced by Cecil with alternative styles. Being with Cecil has changed me. I feel more confident and when the postgrads make some snide comment about us I have to stop myself from pointing out that yes, I fucked my boyfriend last night. And again this morning. And when I think about him I smile without realising it. You got a problem with that? Because I sure don't. Is this what it feels like to be happy? Almost?

I carefully encased part of Susan's crystal in resin and used the microtome to cut as fine a slice as possible. It would be too thick for the transmission electron microscope so I opted for a reflection low-energy electron diffraction analysis instead followed by photoelectron spectroscopy. I am not sure how to describe what happened next. I certainly did not use these exact words in my official lab book. When I bombarded the cut surface with low energy electrons, the crystal started pulsing. No electrons were scattered from the surface, it absorbed them all. This made it impossible to get a diffraction pattern therefore I could not deduce its crystal structure. I turned up the accelerating voltage and the pulsing increased in amplitude and frequency. The microscope chamber is a sealed vacuum therefore does not directly transmit sound, but a pressure wave from the crystal sample was transmitted through the metal housing of the specimen stage and the microscope column. I only noticed it because the lab was so quiet. The crystal sounded as if it was laughing. 

I gave up on electron microscopy techniques and prepared a fresh sample for photoelectron spectroscopy. This time I aimed a tight beam of x-rays at the surface, expecting electrons to be emitted that I could detect, measure and use to determine the chemical composition and bonding states in the material. The spectrum I measured was a complete garble of peaks. I carried out the same analysis again and got a different set of peaks. I kept at it, again and again. Always different. Eventually I gave up. It was almost time for Cecil's broadcast and I wanted an excuse to lock myself in my office to pretend to work but listen in private. I printed out all the spectra on acetate sheets so that I could overlay them to look for patterns. I found one. If I looked along the overlaid spectra at just the right angle, a crude cock-and-balls picture was just discernible in the whitespace. In any other town on Earth I would have written that off as a funny coincidence.

Cecil's broadcast began just after the school meeting finished. He went into gloriously melodramatic detail about the aftermath of the inevitable disagreements of any group of unqualified volunteers asked to cooperate. He reported that a disabled student was to receive a computer to help her to integrate into school life. 

I empathised with the bullied child, I loved learning but hated school. In my school, to avoid attention you had to be of average intelligence and malleable morals. As a quiet, clever boy I was a target. I had one ally, a girl called Cora who was singled out for taking everything literally. Knowing a little more, I think we were, are, both somewhere "on the spectrum" as I have heard people say. But not in Night Vale. Everyone here is unremarkable, however strange. And my science teacher, he understood me well. I heard later that after I graduated from college he left teaching, something was muttered about "abuse of trust" and "influencing impressionable minds". His letters stopped and, wrapped up in my own problems, I did not notice. I regret that. 

By a Nightvalean coincidence, there was an alignment of the Moon and red giant Betelgeuse tonight, which satisfied the school board's conditions for a new computer to be installed. They got hold of one during Cecil's broadcast. Apparently there was an event in 1986 which led to the banning of all computer equipment in schools. I set Estrella to research this event. We have a licence for lab computers. My personal laptop is not covered and I keep it hidden when I am not at home. 

Cecil broadcast the installation of the new computer. Shortly after it was switched on, it took control of the school electrical appliances and all of Night Vale's traffic lights. Cecil must have been concerned already, he used our code of "gentle listener" in the singular which means he was talking to me. He told me that everything powered by electricity was under the computer's control. I dived out of my office and hit the main circuit breaker for the lab, plunging it into darkness and probably meaning I'd have to clean vacuum pump oil out of the electron microscope column tomorrow. Estrella screamed a little. I turned on my battery-powered back up radio, the one I always have in my pocket for just this sort of emergency. 

Cecil was in trouble. He was being pulled into the closet by computer-controlled electrical cleaning appliances and he was calling for help. I grabbed Estrella by both arms, making her scream a bit again, and told her to keep listening to the radio and be ready to respond if necessary. She agreed, but I'm not sure she knew what she was agreeing to. I ran to my car and drove to the school. All lights were red so I ignored them all and was there in minutes.

I knew what to do. The main circuit breaker for the whole building was by the reception desk, part of a huge display about 'how much energy we are using today". I unscrewed the cover and flicked the biggest, reddest switch from 1 to 0 and the school went dark and silent. I groped my way to the hall where Cecil's broadcast was based and found the cupboard that formed his prison. The computer was dark and silent. He hugged me tightly. I said I did not want to feature in his broadcast. He said he did not want to admit that he hadn't thought of simply unplugging the computer. We agreed that Cecil would allow his imagination free rein on what happened. 

I texted Estrella to stand down then waited in the hall to listen to the rest of Cecil's broadcast. There wasn't much time left, but he packed in meaning. He linked the computer to a digital tyrant controlling communication, infrastructure, lives... allowing a treacherous machine to dismantle our municipal power grid and telephone lines and satellites and _radios_. I think I know who he was talking about, who he was talking to, and it was not me.

I helped pack up his equipment and loaded it into my car. I asked, "Where to?" He knew I meant "whose apartment will we sleep at tonight" and he replied that he would like to come and watch me work the rest of my shift in the lab then stay over with me. I drove us back, but before setting off I texted Estrella again to say take the rest of the night off. When we entered the deserted lab, I handed Cecil one of my spare lab-coats. "Want to know what scientists really get up to on night shift?" I asked him. The electricity was still off and the lab was so dark and silent I could see his glowing eyes and hear him breathing. "Oh fuck me, yes," he replied. 

I complied.


End file.
